About Me

God has blessed me tremendously with an amazing husband, Doug, and two gorgeous little boys, Gavin and Joey. It has always been a dream of mine to have a large family but God may have other plans. I had a series of 6 consecutive early miscarriages when trying for baby #2. We are currently trying for baby #3 after our 7th miscarriage. I am faithful that God's plan is perfect, even when I am not happy about it. I love comments and meeting new followers so please don't be shy!

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The other day I asked on my facebook page a very personal question. I asked you how you hear God's voice. There was a reason I asked.

As I was going through my end of my cycle freak out, I started talking to Doug about what, if anything, our next step might be. His wise response was that we would do whatever God tells us to do. If God tells us to do nothing, then we will do nothing. If He tells us to try clomid again, clomid it will be. If He tells us that we need to do an IUI, then we would be sinning by not listening to Him. Soooo... that is great except for the fact that I had no idea how to hear God. I am constantly talking to myself so is it possible that I am drowning out His voice by having my own running commentary of my ideas, my plans, my time table?

Starting a few nights ago, Doug and I started praying together at bedtime and flat out asking God to please tell us what we should do and to please tell us when our child might come. About 20 minutes later, I had turned and gotten into my famous, "I'm going to sleep now" position and I was probably 20 seconds from falling asleep when it happened. It was strange really. All of the sudden I knew when I would get pregnant. And then I cried. It seems that God told me, silently but very clearly that I won't get pregnant until after grandma passes away.

I have written about my grandmother a number of times before but because I love her so much, I'll write about her again.

I remember every Sunday morning, before church, she would get the spaghetti sauce started. She would be in her bra and slip and would have the kitchen smelling like an Olive Garden by 9am.

She baked cookies and would have them stashed in plastic ice cream containers in a lazy susan. Once discovered, I would eat them 3 at a time. I would secretly hope that no once else would find them and try to position them behind the identical ice cream containers filled with flour and sugar.

She had a car with a bench seat in the front with an crocheted afghan folded over the seat with a cane (that she refused to use) slung on the back of the seat. In that car, she would drive 10 miles per hour under the speed limit in the passing lane stating clearly that, "If they want to go around me they can!"

Grandma was always a really good listener. She would want me to dish about my boyfriends and by dish, she meant tell me if they were Italian, Catholic, and if his mom and dad were nice people. One of the guys that I had been dating for a long time and everyone in both of our families has already started hearing wedding bells, dropped a bomb on me. He dumped me. Out of the clear blue sky he said it was over and I was sick. The very next morning, tear stained and congested from the night of crying I went to my grandma's house. I walked in the door and couldn't get past the kitchen before I started bawling like a baby. She had me sit next to her, she wrapped me up in a big hug and said, "He was an asshole anyway."

I told her about two decades ago that I wanted my children to know her. As she was in her 80s, her quick response was, "Well, I'm not going to be around forever!" Seeing as how I wasn't even married yet, it made sense but after threatening to go get "knocked up" she agreed to stick around for a while. Who would have thought that nearly 20 years later, I would have two adorable little boys that get to hug her and give her kisses. I am so blessed.

While I very much hope that my children get to continue to know her for a long time, I have to be realistic and know that Grandma was right. She isn't going to be around forever. At the ripe age of 99, I am thankful that my desire for my children to know her has been granted. I know that when I am blessed with another, that if she isn't on Earth, my children will still know her from photos, stories, and sharing all of my wonderful memories.

I can't help but think that a pregnancy happening after her passing is God's way of giving me a dash of positivity with the looming sadness. His plan is always perfect! In the meantime, I am going to keep working on listening for God's voice. Maybe more important than just hearing it, I need to work on doing what He tells me.

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